A Different Kind of Evil
by DaemonWelsh
Summary: Written with speech to text, Silar Syler  is Riddick. Short, one-shot.


They say that in cryo, your brain shuts down. All but the primative side.

The animal side.

Small wonder then, that I waited in those long black hours between worlds.

Caught by some two bit merc and his former band of crew, I waited, watching.

Watched as the whole damn ship was torn to shreds from a couple of floating rocks, and re-entry into some forsaken planets atmo.

Watched as the cargo of the shitty passenger line was dumped, compartment by compartment, cryo pod after cryo pod. All except for the one that just happened to be my current prison.

We landed, crashed more like the correct word, on a dessert world, a dead world. Dead to those with ears and eyes, but not dead to me. I could hear the voices, the thirst for blood, the urge to kill. An urge I fought with daily.

The urge to take the world by right of conquest, and burn it to the ground as you please.

So I waited, easily able to escape the poor bonds of metal and glass I found myself in.

Then some girl dressed as a boy came to see me. There was potential for monstrosity in her, as there is with all people, yet it was different with her. I wouldn't have to do a damn thing to make her nearly as bad as me.

The acting captain, a blonde woman with a bit of survival instinct and to honest for her own damn good, came to see me just after the little girl, Jack was her name, left.

Same day in fact.

Course, this planets days pretty much extend for fifty some odd years. Then night lasts about thirty four long, dark, bloody nights.

The blonde found her way where I sat, we made some small talk together, one mass murderer to another. As she left, so did I, and thanks to Claire it was painless.

Its funny. Been ten thousand long years since I answered to Silar, and not a day goes by that I don't remember the fighting of my early years with the 'heroes' of Earth.

Seems funny to me, how Dr. Suresh was so very wrong when he talked of our kind as the future of mankind. People stopped being born with abilities off of Earth, and the only ones that continued were the immortals like me.

From what I know of the last count, fifty of us remained. Peter, Claire, myself, and a few others from the old days.

Paltry sum in comparison to the many trillions who lived throughout humanities controlled space.

I pondered this after watching the nine, now eight survivors, scramble around looking for their missing man.

Fools, all of them. They would need to look deeper, of course that doesn't necessarily mean the person looking would survive the experience.

I followed them out to the little abandoned outpost and back. Got caught up and chained because I knew that with nightfall coming soon, they wouldn't survive without me. Guess Hiro managed to teach me something after all.

The holy man lost one of his sons in the outpost, which prompted the e-vac plans. We got back to the crash-site, and lost one of the group to the swarms which erupted right as the sun got cut off.

Endgame, these times are the tests, the kind Hiro was so fond of spouting. Peter rose to the top, as did Parkman, surprisingly. Claire tried, but for a long time she was just a cheerleader, just a kid was in an insane world.

I was in my prime, having taken a night-sight ability from some guy long ago. It was... Beautiful, like watching an artist. These creatures were built like killers, and proved it after catching the colonist stupid enough to stand.

Now they have both the taste and smell. Interesting.

Now cop and the rest are hiding inside and transport. Too bad they left the door open. I was the first and as we weren't alone. The Preacher was second. Or third, once his boy got taken.

Poor kid.

Now there's some half-arsed plan that has me leading the mundane to safety. What would Suresh think about me leading kids, colonists, and cops to safety.

Cops thought he knew me. Once to bait a trap. Didn't realize I'm a hunter, with no interest in his game. Still someone to keep watch on.

Then the merchant got his head filled with a whole lot of stupid. Ended up breaking the cells, so we switched to cocktails.

The graveyard was next, so the cop finally took it in his head to fight. Hopped up on morphine, some mundane got a chance. Claire sought to that. Cop never knew what nailed him in the dark.

Hide the preacher, the girls, and a bit of light away in a side crevice, and booked it with the cells through death row. Getting everything looked upon this gifted and take long. As I was deciding to leave or not, the pilot of the cargo ship showed up and beg me to go back. I played with her little, then went back.

The relief on preachers and Jack's face left me a little warm and fuzzy inside.

But then the other predators caught up with a cargo pilot. I had to burn the fuckers for that.

We got off the plan ago. Jack, the preacher, and me. I guess it's just seeing where the winds takes us end.

Maybe it's time to say hi to Claire again. Or jump and see Hiro.

Only time will tell... And I know all that time.

Authors note:

Felt like doing a crossover, with Syler as Riddick. I have had it written on paper for the past six months, and only just now got to getting it in an e-format. Hurts to type so I used speech-text.

I have a couple more stories in the works, but if this interests you, I can continue it fairly easily.

Put a new perspective on the world for you.

And I do plan on continuing my other stories now that I have all of this worked out, so Against all odds, Where will thou turn when the gods betray him?, and blood wolf may be continue if you readers are interested.

A further note. stargatesg1fan1 has an excellent series, which I will be imitating in a new story. For that though, I need a bit of help. Mostly in that I need to know if my reader base wants combat scenes like Blood wolf has, or the glossing over.

Anyway, give me ideas and I should be able to make them happen, though I make no promises as to quality. Read and review please.

And as always, Keep reading. We notice it.

~Andrew.


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